


blessed be the boys time can't capture

by Charlie_chan16



Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Good Ardyn Izunia, Tired Ignis Scientia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_chan16/pseuds/Charlie_chan16
Summary: "Fall to your knees bring on the raptureBlessed be the boys time can't capture"- Fall Out Boy 'The Kids Aren't Alright'“I guess there’s a reason as to why you called me here?” Ardyn asked when he felt another presence draw near. He knew him intimately, but then again that’s what comes from having a deity live within your body for years. To others the silence that followed might’ve seemed wary, but to Ardyn he knew that Hades was just looking him over, taking in his new garments and hat that perched jauntily on his head.“Indeed,” the God of the Underworld replied almost pensievely. “I see your fashion has not improved since our last encounter.”
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	blessed be the boys time can't capture

**Author's Note:**

> I have no one to blame for this other than myself. I was playing FFXV (again) with the new ending when I suddenly realised that Ardyn has a three headed dog named Cerberus and is literally Evil Incarnate in Eos. There is one other person who has a three legged dog (and no, it is not Hagrid); Hades God of the Underworld. One thing led to another, I began to make too many comparisons between the characters of FFXV to Olympic Gods and here we are. (And yes, the title is from Fall Out Boy's 'Kids Aren't Alright'. I'm a sucker for making titles out of song lyrics)
> 
> The Presences of the Olympics are held in the bodies of Hosts in Eos. If they weren't they were Fade into the Void. That is the concept I came up with. There are Host Lines within Eos; families who Host one specific God.  
> The twelve main Olympic Gods' Host Lines are:   
> Zeus: Lucis Caelums   
> Poseidon: Nox-Fleurets  
> Hades: Ardyn  
> Hera: Never took a Host Line as she didn't see the need  
> Artemis: Highwinds  
> Aphrodite: Gladiolus' mother who passed her on to Iris   
> Hephaestus: Sophiars  
> Ares: Ulrics  
> Hermes: Aldercapts   
> Helios (Replacing Apollo cause it makes more sense): Argentums   
> Athena: Claustras  
> Hestia: Leonises 
> 
> Please do leave comments and kudoses! I'd love to hear what you thought about it! <3

It was dark...just how he liked it. He couldn’t see two inches past his nose but he didn’t mind. In fact the darkness was comforting, like an old friend pulling him into a tight hug. 

“I guess there’s a reason as to why you called me here?” Ardyn asked when he felt another presence draw near. He knew him intimately, but then again that’s what comes from having a deity live within your body for years. To others the silence that followed might’ve seemed wary, but to Ardyn he knew that Hades was just looking him over, taking in his new garments and hat that perched jauntily on his head. 

“Indeed,” the God of the Underworld replied almost pensievely. “I see your fashion has not improved since our last encounter.” 

Ardyn scoffed, rolling his eyes at the God. “So you say. But do you recall the expression ‘Pot calls the kettle black’?” He could feel the God’s irritation, but knew it held no conviction. The God was too fond of his Host to actually hold ill intent towards him. But Ardyn knew that if he ever tried that with a different deity he’d be smote into the next century. 

“You have called me here for a reason, yes?” Ardyn asked, facing the general direction of his deity. “Because if that isn’t so, I’d gladly return to my reading.” Ardyn mentalled winced at his level of cheek but it seemed Hades didn’t mind, ignoring the jab and continuing on. 

“I assume you’ve noticed the unease surrounding the star, yes?” Hades asked, and Ardyn nodded recalling the fear that had coagulated around the Cleigne area as Ravatogh smoked and spewed debris into the air. There had also been reports from Altissia of tidal waves breaking over the waterfalls that surrounded the city, flooding the streets with water and costing millions in damage. 

“The Astrals, they’re stirring aren’t they?” Ardyn asked, voice heavy with resignation as he rolled the thought over and over. 

“I’m afraid so. It seems they have had enough with second place. They seemed to have forgotten that they placed themselves in that position by summoning the Olympians,” Hades admitted, and Ardyn could hear how tired the God was. 

“There’s no way to placate them? If I recall you achieved that perfectly the first time this occurred,” Ardyn asked, mind racing to find other ways around the problem than simply turning to violence. 

“It seems that they have been planning this since the war when we were summoned. They  _ wanted  _ us to place them into the Void to allow them to gain strength, so they could challenge us when the time was right,” Hades told him. 

“We’re not ready to fight them, are we?” he asked, knowing the answer already. 

“No, the other Olympians are weak, and need to transfer to the next generation before we even have a chance of defeating them again,” Hades said. “And even then, we need more aid. The Lucian Army wouldn’t be enough to go up against the Astrals. Even with the Olympians on their side.” 

Ardyn fell silent for a few minutes, his mind racing a mile a minute in thought. He never felt so grateful for the comforting darkness that surrounded him, and he never realised how  _ tired  _ he felt. He wanted to sink into the ground below him and sleep for a hundred years.

“What do you need me to do?” he asked, straightening his back so he stood at his full height with pride. 

“Hermes needs aid with the Empire. His Host is new to leading, and seeing as I owe him a favour, I said I’d send you,” Hades explained, and Ardyn grumbled quietly at the thought of dealing with the Empire. 

“How does this aid the problem at hand?” Ardyn asked, slightly confused. 

“If you win Iedolas’ favour, you can climb the ranks. Become his Advisor, or even Chancellor. Then, when the Astrals make their move, you’d be in prime position to have the Empire to become involved,” Hades told him. Ardyn remained silent for a few moments, and the God of the Underworld sighed. 

“Think about it. I’ll return for your answer within the week,” he said, and his presence faded once again, leaving Ardyn in the cafe he had situated himself in, the towering silhouette of Ravatogh stark against the sunlight. 

It wasn’t often that the Astrals made an appearance. There had been rare occurrences over the millions of years that Eos had existed that they showed themselves, and it was only for a very short period of time. The stories of the war between humans and Astrals was enough to terrify the people of Eos to hope they’d never appear again. But sightings of Leviathan within the sea had been reported by the government in Altissia, rumblings of Titan in Lestallum and thunderstorms ravaging the Cleigne region. The news that the Astrals were awakening spread like wildfire and didn’t take long to reach Insomnia. 

The Hosts could feel the unease keenly, the gods within them rousing from a deep slumber that held consequences to the potency of their power over the years they’d been asleep. Zeus could feel it in his Hosts’ bones - the man still spry and strong for someone his age - and knew that it was almost time to move. The others could feel it as well, the roiling excitement of lucidity waking them. 

Regis knew Zeus was preparing to move, although he determinedly ignored the God’s presence for now, mind too preoccupied with worry as he paced the corridor. He could hear Aulea’s cries, something in his chest tightening at the distance between him and his wife. He knew it was for the best, that the nurses and doctors needed the room, but that didn’t make the waiting any easier. 

The pregnancy had been hard, the nine months between conception and birth had felt like a lifetime for both of them. Regis hated how weak his wife had become, how frail and tired she was. It didn’t seem natural as Aulea had no previous ailment. And yet she grew thinner by the day, cheeks turning pale and gaunt no matter how much food she ate. And Regis raged at the fact that the universe was taking his wife away. 

It took two hours, and Aulea’s yells to die to whimpers, but the screams of Regis’ child could be heard clearly through the wood of the door. Regis longed to go in but it stayed firmly shut. But the noise level inside the room ratcheted up a notch, and dread trickled into the King’s stomach as he listened. Aulea was dying, and he could do nothing. 

He stood completely still, facing the door as he waited and listened as the sounds trailed off. Something within him finally cracked, and he could feel the tears welling in his eyes. The creak of hinges drew his attention to a nurse stepping out, a bundle of blankets held within her grasp. Her body was angled in such a way that Regis couldn’t get a clear view of the room behind her, and part of him ached to go to his wife. 

But, his attention was suddenly captured by the babe placed in his arms. It was a tiny little thing, a thin tuft of dark hair prominent on its head and delicate eyes closed. Regis fell in love immediately, cradling the babe close. He ran a gentle finger over its -  _ his _ , because the nurse confirmed the gender before stepping away - nose, the babe snuffling into his blanket. 

A tiny hand latched onto Regis’ finger, and the man finally broke down, tears making tracks down his cheeks as he sobbed. A pit of despair opened within his stomach, and his chest ached with heartbreak. Aulea was gone, leaving behind a gaping hole within Regis’ heart. 

So great was his grief for his wife, Regis didn’t even notice Zeus’ movements, didn’t realise the God was making his way towards his son. And he didn’t notice his son welcoming the God easily, the presence slipping into the babe's body as if it was meant to be there. 

Zeus could feel the power stored within the child, knew that it was for a reason. But he didn’t deem to dwell on the thought then, settling to sleep for the next few years until the child could hold cognizant thought. The family needed time to grieve without the presence of an immortal being. 

Hades appreciated his Host. He valued the discretion and observation he used in regards to the God he was hosting. Hades knew it wasn’t easy, especially for the years the two of them had been in the same body. It was useful in more ways than one. 

He had seen no use in Host Lines, no point in jumping from one body to another every few years. He’d been incredibly lucky to find a Host willing enough to hold his presence. It would’ve been very easy for Ardyn to decline Hades’ offer and allow the God to fade. Although, it would’ve been childs play to allow him to die, to allow the disease he’d absorbed to ravage and take over his whole body. 

But he didn’t, and Ardyn had agreed to Hades’ terms, willingly accepting the God. It had been years since then, Hades content with watching the world through his Host’s eyes as it changed before them. He could feel his siblings spread across the star, and his Host even came upon a few of them during his travels. 

During recent months, he could sense the other Olympians growing restless within their Hosts, some even moving to the next generation in their Lines. They felt more...potent to Hades, as if their power had suddenly returned to them with this newest set of Hosts. He could tell it was linked to the sightings of the Astrals in Eos, knew that the other Olympians were gathering power for the inevitable battle. 

Their plan was set in motion. Ardyn was gaining more trust from Hermes’ Host everyday, meaning that when the time came and if needed, Ardyn could ask aid from the Empire. 

He even found himself consciously preparing himself as well, gathering as much strength he could from the stores he’d created for himself. There was something coming, he could  _ feel  _ it. 

Noctis’ first encounter with what he called his ‘roommate’ was when he was four years old.

His dad had told him stories of the Olympians when he could between meetings and events, of how they were more powerful than the Astrals themselves, and lived on Eos through Hosts as their physical bodies couldn’t hold their essences, of how the Astrals themselves summoned them to aid in the War during Solheim’s time. 

Ignis had shown him his book on the Gods, the pages dog-eared and crinkly under Noctis’ sticky fingers.Ignis had helpfully pointed out the Host Lines to Noctis’ inquisitive gaze, fingers trailing past each name of the Host until it got to him. He held Zeus within his body, but he didn’t know the God, he hadn’t felt or heard him in the four years he’d been alive. According to his dad that was to be expected, the God usually didn’t appear until the Host was mentally capable for them. 

He’d been excited to find out that Luna was just like him, although when he’d written to her in their notebook to ask about it she’d told him that she’d met her God a few weeks before, and she was six years old. Noctis didn’t think he could wait that long to meet Zeus. 

He’d thought that his God was so cool, although it wasn’t difficult to impress a four year old. The stories of his dad being able to use the God’s power to battle always managed to excite the little prince. However compared to the older generations Regis wasn’t able to use Zeus’ power to its full extent. Ignis had attempted to explain to Noctis the reason why that was, but his attention span could only take so much. 

He’d felt uneasy for most of the morning on that day. He’d fidgeted in his seat at breakfast, not really hungry even though the food looked really good. He’d caught his father’s concerned gaze and given him a wide grin before bursting into an explanation of his adventures in the garden the day before, effectively drawing Regis’ attention away.

He’d been unable to listen to his Tutors lesson, doodling in the margins of his notebook and shuffling in his seat. She’d been very understanding however, letting Noctis out early when it was obvious he couldn’t work any more that day. Although he didn’t know that his dad had tipped her off, knowing the signs of a restless God. 

When he’d asked Luna, she’d told him that the first time she’d met Posiedon she had tasted salt on her tongue and her ears felt as if she’d water within them. The deity hadn’t stuck around to speak for very long however, and Luna had explained that it was because she wasn’t strong enough just yet, but that she could feel him very clearly now, as if a half of her she hadn’t even noticed was missing suddenly slotted into place. 

Noctis had been expecting something of much the same caliber. That wasn’t what he got at all. 

As he made his way towards the garden, his nose twitched, a sudden strange smell invading it. He didn’t notice but his hair was standing on end, and the servants that spied him in the hallways as he dashed passed rushed to notify the King of what was happening. He could feel a headache encroaching behind his eyes, his head throbbing in time to his erratic heartbeat as he finally made his way outside. 

The citizens outside the Citadel would comment for weeks to come on the sudden appearance of a storm cloud above the twin buildings. They would brush it off as King Regis whenever it was discussed, but the servants and residents knew better. 

Noctis could feel his nose itching as if he needed to sneeze. His headache suddenly peaked at the same time, a massive, almost explosive sounding sneeze erupted from his nose, and the little prince stumbled to fall on his bottom. 

His eyes opened and he sighed in relief as the headache suddenly disappeared, leaving behind a very tired little boy. The prince took in the scorch mark that decorated the grass a few centimeters from his sneakers, black and smoking slightly. He stared at it in wonder as his dad knelt beside him. 

“Did I do that?” he asked in wonder, his finger pointing towards the scorch mark. He wasn’t meant to start magic training until he was six, but his magic was known to slip slightly at inopportune moments. But his dad shook his head, and Noctis’ little brow furrowed in confusion. 

“That, my boy, was Zeus saying hello,” Regis explained, and watched as Noctis’ eyes widened in surprise. His son gazed at his hands as if the God would make an appearance within his palms. 

“Hi Zeus,” he said quietly, tone amazed and awed. 

Regis couldn’t deny the pride he felt, but he also couldn’t ignore the dread that engulfed his chest. There hadn’t been a Host who’s God appeared before the age of six years old. It was believed the infant brain would be incapable of comprehending that sort of power, and yet here was Noctis talking to the God within his body as if he were a best friend. 

It terrified Regis, to think that his little boy had that much potential. Zeus hadn’t shown himself to the King until he was six himself, only the scent of ozone and the crackle of lightning between his fingertips making an appearance until he’d received formal training. And his son, his Noctis had summoned a lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. 

He didn’t have much time to dwell on it though as he suddenly had a lap full of an excitable four year old who seemed adamant to draw the God out once more. 

Prompto wouldn’t call himself sheltered. But then again, the eleven year old had never met another Host before. At least, not until today that is. 

The Argentums were a Host Line of great renown, known for Hosting the God Helios of the sun. Often however they were glossed over, their Hosts not as powerful as some of the others, for example the Sophiars of Hephaestus. But they didn’t necessarily care for power, and neither did their God. 

Prompto however turned out to be different, as seemed to be a trend with the current generation of Hosts. Helios, known in the Argentums for presenting himself with a glow of sunlight around his Host, decided to present with Prompto blinding half the servants in the dining room during supper. His skin had been scalding hot, although it didn’t seem to both the boy as he continued to eat his food, but he took notice when his hand had somehow set fire to the tablecloth. 

It seemed he wasn’t the only one displaying strong powers, and it was part of the reason as to why the Host Lines were congregated for a meeting. There had been rumours flying that the goddess Aphrodite had chosen a Host from one of the Amicitias. There wasn’t much said about the Host, just that her father was King Regis’ Shield. 

Prompto waved to Cindy as he passed by her, nodding in respect to her grandfather; the head of the Sophiar family. He’d known Cindy since childhood, the two bonding over their love for machinery when they were left alone for all of an hour whilst their parents and grandparent talked. 

He could feel his father steering him with the hand on his shoulder, and he dutifully followed. It was obvious the Argentums weren’t here for idle chat. 

Prompto felt very underdressed as he found himself and his family surrounded by Lords and Ladies that could order him to a dungeon if he even looked at them wrong. Although, his parents could do the same as they held the same authority as most of the adults in the room. 

It was after the initial welcome from the King that Prompto had been able to wander around the grand ballroom, nodding his head to the other Hosts he spotted until he had gone full circle, ending up on the other end of the buffet table. He noticed a dark haired boy sneaking pastries from a plate, shoving them into his pocket as subtly as possible. Curiosity piqued, Prompto made his way over. 

“What’re you doing?” Prompto asked him, tilting his head to the side in curiosity, the boy startling slightly and dropping a pastry on the floor. The blonde bent down to pick it up, dusting the fallen sweet off before holding it out to the other boy with a bright smile. 

With flushing cheeks, the boy snatched it from his fingers. “Thanks,” he told him quietly, glancing down at his feet in embarrassment. There was a few seconds of awkward silence before Prompto thought to introduce himself. 

“I’m Prompto Argentum, by the way,” he said cheerfully, sticking out his hand for a shake, watching as the other boy glanced up at him with bright blue eyes. 

“Noctis,” he replied, grin small and shy, and although Prompto recognised the name immediately, he smiled widened knowing how awkward he got when someone called him Master Prompto. 

“Nice to meet you Noctis! Ya know, we could sneak those outside. I’m getting bored with all of these grownups and I don’t think anyone will notice us,” Prompto said, keeping his voice quiet, and the other boy smiled shyly, nodding and grabbing for the blondes hand. 

Prompto never did find out what that event was for, but he did make a new friend. 

Ignis didn’t know what to expect when he and Gladio were tasked with training two Hosts. But it definitely wasn’t this. The King had thought it best that his son and his best friend learn close combat and weapons from people not of the Host Lines. He and Gladio were perfect for the job, although they didn’t think it would be  _ this  _ difficult. 

Ignis had read in multiple books that the Olympians usually relied on their powers for battle, and usually wished for their Hosts to do the same. However the Hosts themselves weren’t always capable of manifesting the power of the gods, the tournament held by King Mors against the Empire was evidence of that and often had to resort to weapons or their bodies to battle. 

That did not seem to be the case with Prompto or Noctis. 

Their Gods seemed to despise the notion that their Hosts would use any weapons other than their powers. Zeus had been adamant of giving Noctis electric shocks with every weapon he picked up, sending guns, spears, shields, and swords to the floor with a clatter of steel, the prince’s hair standing on end. Ignis could tell the boy was getting frustrated as he seemed adamant to hold onto a weapon for as long as he could, seemingly trying to outdo Zeus’ stubbornness. That, and the fact that he seemed to be having an argument with his own hands. 

Prompto wasn't fairing much better. The poor boy was either being blinded by a bright flash of light conveniently reflecting off the surface of the weapon he attempted to hold, or to have his hands catch fire when he tried to reach for another. Currently, he was trying to inch towards a crossbow that lay on the ground with his eyes closed, using the logic that if he can’t see it, then Helios couldn’t as well. It didn’t work, and Prompto’s hands flared once again. 

“This is getting ridiculous,” Ignis said with a heavy, tired sigh. He could see Gladio’s shoulders shuddering as he attempted to contain his laughter. 

“Yeah, but you have to say it’s funny,” he replied, hand covering his mouth as he muffled another chortle, watching as Noctis’ hair puffed again as lightning arced between his fingertips. 

“You might laugh, but we are the ones who are going to have to train them until they can at least hold a weapon,” Ignis told him, mind already racing to come up with strategies and ideas. 

“How about we leave it today. We can have them practise precision until we come up with a plan on how to deal with this,” Gladio compromised, and Ignis massaged the bridge of his nose tiredly, nodding in assent. 

“Alright guys, that’s enough,” Gladio called out to the two younger ones, and both flopped on the ground, limbs spread eagle and breath heavy from exertion. 

“Why...do they…have to be...so stubborn?!” Prompto gasped out in irritation, sweat beading on his brow as he listened to his blood roaring in his ears. “Why do we even have to learn to use other weapons?” 

“It is important you learn in case you cannot rely on your Gods in battle,” Ignis explained. “Or would you rather be stranded with no powers and no weapons in front of a foe you couldn’t take down.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Noctis admitted, and the blonde tilted his head to look at him. “Dad told me stories of how the Mystic went about three days in battle using Zeus’ lightning. And afterwards he wasn’t even tired, just pumped from the adrenaline rush that lasted through the night.” 

“Holy shit,” Prompto murmured in awe. “You think you could do that?” 

“I dunno,” Noctis said, shrugging his shoulders. “Never tried.” There was silence for a few moments as the boys rolled that thought in their minds. 

“Hey, when did you say you had to go back home again?” Noctis asked, and Prompto grinned, bright blue eyes sparkling in mischief. They didn’t notice Ignis’ sigh in exasperation or Gladio chuckling in the corner. 

It wasn’t until a few days later that the two of them finally managed to gain a compromise with their Gods. Helios seemed amicable with Prompto using guns and grenades to battle and using his light power to distract his enemies. Zeus grudgingly accepted an Engine Blade that allowed Noctis to use his lightning and his magic if he needed, although the God wasn’t very happy with having to have his Host use a sword at all. 

“A lightning storm has set most of the forestry alight in the Duscae region. Hunters have been called to help calm the inferno that seems to have emanated from Fociaugh Hollow,” the newsreader said as Noctis reached over to turn the radio up. 

“It comes after the earthquakes in Lestallum and the tsunami that engulfed a quarter of Accordo last week. King Regis has said that resources are on their way to the areas affected by these natural disasters. He has made no comment on whether this was the work of the Astrals, but the council of Host Lines has been called.” 

“That sounds serious,” Prompto murmured from where he sat in the passenger seat. 

It was boiling hot that day, and the Star of Lucis streaked through the streets of Insomnia. It was one of their free days where the two of them had nothing to do. They’d turned their phones on silent and left them in the backseat where they couldn’t reach. It was the first time in weeks that they were able to take a break from training and lessons, but it didn’t feel much like a break as dread inched up their spines. 

The Olympians were becoming more restless, almost matching the Astrals who were surely the reason for the natural disasters. This would be the third time in the same amount of months that the council met and each time nothing was decided as the Gods made their presence known, taking over the council themselves. Noctis could confidently say he’d never get used to having an almighty being taking over his body to command the others. 

“Nothing we can do about it now,” Noctis replied as he switched off the radio, turning the car into the parking lot. The shade was appreciated, the temperature dropping a few degrees as the two of them grabbed their phones once again. “Ignis says we should read the reports he sent if we want to be prepped for the next meeting.” 

Prompto groaned loudly, hating the thought of more work on such a gorgeous day. “Why do  _ we  _ have to deal with reports?” he asked. 

“Because the others are helping with the evacuation in Accordo or aiding the hunters, which we’re not allowed to do seeing as we’re one of the youngest,” Noctis explained for what felt like the nth time. Although he was as pissed as Prompto as their predicament, he knew it was for their own safety. The two of them and Iris were the ones with the least training out of the new generation of Host Lines, and the least control. They’d be a liability if there was some sort of attack. 

And it did feel like something big was coming, something planned, but until the Astrals made their move, they could do nothing but wait.

The headlines blared the news three weeks later, but Nyx got to Noctis quicker, dashing into the prince’s apartment with heaving breaths. Noctis suspected he’d warped some of the way there. 

The Ulrics had always been loyal to the Kings of Lucis, even if their own home was ruled under their God Ares. Nyx was no different, signing up for the Kingsglaive as soon as he was of age and climbing the ranks as soon as he was able. 

Noctis always found him entertaining to talk with during the state dinners and meetings the two of them were expected to attend, especially when the seating plans were set to the Olympians liking and Prompto was at the other end of the table. Nyx had a sort of take-no-shit-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude that Noctis thought was sorely lacking in the council and the Citadel in general. Although that might’ve been an influence on Ares’ behalf. 

Noctis had never encountered the God Nyx hosted, but the power he used when aiding both him and Prompto with training was impressive. He’d also never seen Nyx this flustered or upset as he burst in on Noctis and Prompto’s studying session. 

“The...The Astrals,” Nyx gasped out, “they made their move.” 

“Turn on the TV,” Noctis murmured to Prompto as he made to lead Nyx to the sofa to sit down, the tension in the apartment bearing down on his shoulders. He could feel the shaking of his hands through the gloves Nyx wore, his usually blue eyes flashing red with anger. It was bad, and Noctis could feel the dread inching up his throat. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket as the three of them watched the news. The Astrals had attacked Galahd, a blatant declaration of war against the Olympians as they destroyed the home of the most vengeful God. Noctis could feel Zeus stirring in righteous anger, and beside him it seemed Ares was furious, his rage causing Nyx’s skin to turn hot. 

“Dad?” Noctis answered, stepping away from the sofa. Prompto gracefully took his seat, nodding to the prince as he wandered to the back of the room, facing out to the windows to get a look. “What’s going on?” 

“The Astrals destroyed Galahd,” Regis answered. “It seems that both Ramuh and Leviathan are the main culprits as it was a tornado that tore through the country apart.” 

“But Ramuh is their deity, he’s the one they worship,” Noctis exclaimed. “Why would he doom his own people?” 

“It seems the other Astrals influenced him, put it to him that the Olympians had corrupted the Galahdians and needed to be made an example of,” Regis explained, and Noctis could hear the exhaustion in his voice. “Is Nyx with you?” 

“Yeah, he just got here a few minutes ago,” Noctis replied. 

“Good, keep him there, keep him calm. The last thing we need is Ares going on a rampage,” Regis told him. 

“Will do,” Noctis said, comforted in the fact that he could  _ do  _ something amidst all the craziness around him. “Do we need to prep for a War Council?” 

“I think it would be best. I’ll send Ignis down to help you three once we’ve drawn up the reports,” Regis said before the two exchanged their goodbyes. 

By the time Ignis made his appearance, Nyx had calmed somewhat, no longer burning holes through the TV with his gaze and the coffee pot was brewing on the stove. 

“We need a plan of action,” Athena called over the roar of the Council, her Host standing tall amidst the other seated Gods. Noctis found her intimidating, her voice carrying more power than any of the Hosts sitting around the table. 

Initially he and Prompto were there to watch the grown ups arguing over the table as their Gods took over their voices to vent their anger at their inactivity to the obvious declaration of war against them. There was no one solution to this seemingly massive problem.

Zeus had yet to say anything, leaving Noctis to sit by his father and watch the negotiations. He felt stupid, having nothing to do as Ignis scribbled in a notebook behind him. The Olympians had never been gathered in one place for years, not since the event when Noctis was a child and met Prompto for the first time. He felt intimidated by all of them, the presences of their Gods so loud that they fought to have dominance of the Chamber. 

Athena seemed adamant to have a plan to take down the Astrals. Ares wanted violence and Noctis had never seen Nyx so passionate, his eyes glowing red with fire. Artemis seemed to be on the same page as the God of War, whereas Poseidon was adamant for peace, Luna’s voice somehow carrying above all others. 

There was an obvious split in the Council, and Noctis was slightly confused as to why Zeus hadn’t stepped in yet. 

Regis suddenly held up his hand for silence, standing elegantly from his seat. All eyes turned to him, and Noctis couldn’t deny the shiver of pride he felt up his spine as his father took complete control of the Chamber. “It is obvious this attack was a declaration of war against the Olympians,” he said. “However, we do not have the magical strength, or the training to go up against Six Astrals millenia years old. We can’t face them yet.” 

The Chamber erupted into sound again as the Olympians argued once more. Noctis suddenly felt his head jerk to the left, and sensed Zeus finally taking control to stare at a corner of the room, as if he were expecting someone. 

“That is where you're wrong,” came a new voice, a person stepping out from the shadow of the corner. He wore a strange assortment of clothing, as if he had taken a piece from each generation past and pieced it together into an outfit. The brim of his hat covered his face, but Noctis suddenly stood, his eyes glowing bright blue as Zeus stood within his body. 

“Hello, brother,” Zeus said through Noctis’ voice, tone commanding and powerful. He could never get used to this feeling, of knowing his mouth was moving, his vocal cords vibrating but having no control over what he said, or what he did. Mentally he shivered at the slight vertigo he felt, but he didn’t dare fight against the God’s control.

Luna stood as well out of Noctis’ peripheral vision, taking in the sight of Hades with an expression of hesitancy but kindness. Luna was always one to see the good in people, and it seemed that held true for the God of the Underworld. 

“Zeus, so nice to see that you’re still thriving. And I see the gangs all here then,” Hades said, taking in the Council with eyes as black as tar. 

“We tried to make contact with you, but you weren’t answering,” Poseidon said, expression earnest as he took in his brother through Luna’s eyes, catching on to the dark bags that clung to Hades’ own. 

“I’m afraid I was too busy with my own plans, my dear Poseidon,” Hades answered. “And making new friends.” 

“Your Host,” Regis broached, brow furrowed in recognition. “It’s--”

“Yes, Ardyn Lucis Caelum,” Hades said, sounding almost bored. “Your Great however many times Uncle I believe. Although he seems to prefer to go by Ardyn Izunia now.” 

“The Chancellor of Niflheim,” Regis murmured, and Hades bowed his head. 

“And I come bearing aid,” Hades said. “Emperor Iedolas is happy to provide troops and brand new technology in the defeat of the Astrals. It seems Hermes is eager to open the trade corridors again.” 

“Thank you,” Zeus said, sounding completely genuine in his tone as the third of the big three stood off to the side, not sitting at the Council table as the meeting proceeded. 

Noctis was finding it incredibly strange to have Zeus take control. It was as if he was the driver of a car and he was suddenly pushed into the passenger seat, having no say in where they were going. He watched as the Olympians discussed strategy with his Dad and the few others that weren’t Hosts, keeping an eye on their new arrival all the while. 

He didn’t know what to think of this Ardyn character, but if Zeus trusted him then it seemed Noctis had no choice. Although, the guy didn’t seem to hold any ill intent towards them, and when he considered it, he was the Host for Hades; God of the Underworld. In the myths Ignis had read to him, the people intentionally never mentioned his name to save them from his attention. 

And any aid they got was appreciated. 

Noctis couldn’t deny the anxiety that clenched around his throat as they faced the Astrals. He had to crane his neck to take in their towering height. They  _ had  _ to win today. The stakes were high enough that Noctis felt as if the responsibility would drown him. 

If they lost, the Olympians would fade and the Host Lines would end. The Astrals would be free to control the Star as they saw fit, changing its fate to something that suited them. Noctis didn’t know what that would be, but he didn’t necessarily want to find out. 

Luna could sense Poseidon’s righteous rage. The images of her home alight and Altissia drowned under tons of sea water angering Host and God alike. If they let the Astrals to go free, or if they lost there could be more death and destruction. 

It meant her home could be destroyed completely, the burnt scaffolding and buildings washed away by a tsunami, or brought low by an earthquake that could shake the foundations of the Star. It meant Insomnia could be eradicated, Regis and the others in the Citadel wiped out in a matter of minutes. 

It meant the destruction of the Star as a whole. 

Nyx was angry. He could feel his rage and Ares mixing in his body. It fuelled him, and he could sense his glowing eyes setting themselves onto Ramuh and Leviathan, the two Astrals staring back at the Olympians with disdain. 

He wanted to get revenge for what they’d done to his home. He could still see the images of the islands that made Galahad flooded with water, houses completely submerged under the waves and rivers and lakes overflowing into fields. 

He felt Zeus’ hand on his shoulder, and when he turned his head he marveled at the stern and determined expression on Noctis’ face. He’d never seen the prince so serious, but then again the situation wasn’t normal in any way. And he watched with pride as Noctis raised his arm to give the order to attack, his blue eyes shining brightly in the midday sun. 

  
  



End file.
